Willing Captive Read online

  “Oh, you bitc- Motherfu- Shitballs!”

  Boo chuckles, “Oh relax. It isn’t that bad.”

  I scoff, “Yeah, right, you freakin’ harlot.”

  Boo laughs. I cringe and whimper, “Oh God. You’re actually enjoying this.”

  When she stops, she asks, “Your sister never tried this?”

  Fisting the sheets, I reply through gritted teeth, “Oh, she tried. I karate chopped her ass.”

  She says, “I don’t get it.” I open my eyes to find her looking down at me, “The whole you don’t have friends thing. You’re pretty cool, Deedee.”

  Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I explain, “Well, Dad was always overprotective. Then it got worse. We weren’t allowed to go anywhere without him or Mom. I never really understood it.” Till now, I think.

  “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen from me going to a sleepover?” I sigh, “Eventually, the little friends I had stopped asking me to come over and drifted away from me. My sister was always there for me, though. She had this way about her. I guess she still does. She’s always been popular, so no one questioned why she wasn’t coming out to parties and stuff. She’d just pass it off with ‘I’ve got a better offer’ or ‘Nah, it’s not really my thing’. Well, Terah got sick of Dad’s rules and started sneaking out and I- I didn’t. I’d stay at home with my book boyfriends and that was fine by me. Ow! Stop that!”

  Plucking another stray hair, she pulls back and says, “Done.”

  Standing, I walk over to the mirror and check my newly shaped eyebrows.

  Not bad. Not bad at all.

  I look back at her through the mirror and state, “So much pain for this? It doesn’t even look like you plucked anything.”

  Lying back on the bed, she says, “Oh, it’s noticeable, alright. You’re lucky. You’ve been blessed with a great shape. You should see mine when I don’t pluck.” She lifts her head and looks at my reflection in the mirror. “Scary. I’d have a unibrow in the shape of the McDonald’s m.”

  Turning around, I lean back on the dresser and ask, “Why do you even bother? You work with men, and I’m sure they don’t care that you pluck.”

  She smiles slyly and bats her lashes, “Oh, but my man would.”

  Eeek! Her man! Swoon.

  Bouncing over to the bed wearing an annoyingly cheeky smile, I ask in a sing-song voice, “Oh, yeah? Who is he?”

  Her answer shocks me so much my mouth gapes. “Rock.”

  Leaning forward, I whisper-hiss, “No way!”

  Chuckling, she replies, “Way, baby.”

  My mouth hangs open and she laughs. I sputter, “B- b- but you guys act like you don’t even like each other.”

  Nodding, she smiles sadly, “Technically, we aren’t allowed to see each other. It’s...” She actually lifts her hands and does slow quotation mark actions with her fingers, “…fraternizing. Nox knows, but he said he can’t really do anything about it unless it affects our work, which I would never let happen anyways. And what with Rock and Nox being best friends, I think Nox is actually happy to see that Rock’s got something good in this life.”

  Confused by that last statement, I ask quietly, “What do you mean in this life?

  Boo searches my face a while. She looks unsure before answering me quietly, “Babe, we don’t exist.”

  Confused even more now, my brow furrows as I ask, “Come again?”

  She lies back down with her arms resting behind her head. Looking up at the ceiling, she explains, “This thing - what we do - protection and elimination. We don’t work for anyone. We work for ourselves. I guess you could call it a made-up business. We all have titles within our sector, but the sector doesn’t actually exist. We’re all privately employed and we get paid a lot to do what we do. The condition of being employed this way is to be unseen, and our circle to be impenetrable. So everyone you’ve met here, they don’t have any form of real identification. Every document, ID card, and bank account we have is under a false name.” Turning her head to face me, she finishes with, “We don’t exist.”

  Holy shit, that’s insane.

  Staring right back at her, I surmise, “So everyone I’ve met here is going under a fake name?”

  She nods and I ask, “What happened to who you were? You know, who you used to be?”

  Smiling a sad smile, she responds quietly, “She died, babe. We all did.”

  My heart squeezes as I whisper, “Well, that sucks.”

  Boo turns to her side and we look at each other for a moment. We’re having a silent conversation.

  My mouth droops and I frown slightly. I’m sorry, boo. That really does suck.

  She shrugs slightly and winks. It’s okay. I’m okay with it.

  Playing with my fingertips, I blurt out, “Constance? You chose the name Constance?”

  She bursts into laughter and I do, too. We laugh together a short while before her face softens and she replies quietly, “It was my mom’s name. My way of never forgetting her. She was a Connie so it never felt right calling myself that. One day, Rock told me I was quiet as a ghost so he nicknamed me Boo, and I’ve been Boo ever since.” Suddenly sobering, she asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Shaking my head, I tell her, “Not unless he’s the fictional kind. It’s just me and my books.”

  Her face turns thoughtful, her eyes sad. She murmurs, “Must get lonely.”

  Smiling, I say just as quietly, “I could say the same for you.”

  She smiles back. “Touché.”

  We both lay back down on the bed with a sigh. I guess my life isn’t so bad.

  At least I’m not dead.

  ***

  Excusing myself to get something to eat for me and Boo, I run into the kitchen and my sock-covered feet, and slide to a stop only an inch away from Nox.

  His blue eyes flash. “Where you goin’ so quick, princess?”

  Today is one of the rare days he doesn’t have on a shirt.

  My eyes strain as I beg them to remain fixed on his face and not his broad and solid chest, which is deliciously damp with perspiration.

  Yum.

  “Just getting something to eat.”

  Nodding, he says genuinely, “Glad your appetite’s back.”

  Nodding in return, I respond sincerely, “Me, too.”

  And then nothing.

  Awkward silence.

  A loooong awkward silence.

  Moving around him to the pantry, my brain reminds me that we have something to discuss with him. Just as he moves to leave the huge kitchen, which suddenly feels about as big as a mailbox, I call out, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask if you spoke to Mitch about me talking to my sister.”

  Face void of emotion, he leans his hip on the counter. “No. Not yet.” Reaching over the counter, he picks up an apple and plays with it.

  I’m a little pissed at this. He said he would try. My face turns to steel. I walk around the kitchen slamming the pantry shut, and open and close the drawers far too quickly, wanting the noise to convey my mood right now.

  Nox sees right through me. “Why’re you pissed, now?”

  Bombs away!

  Losing my patience, I shout, “Know what would make me happy, Nox? Knowing my sister is okay! I like Boo, no, I love Boo, but she isn’t my sister, and you think I don’t know what you’re doing, and that makes you so much more of a dick! Know what would make me better than happy? Actually speaking to her and hearing for myself that she’s alive and well. Not shoving a substitute under my nose.”

  A silence passes over both of us. Nox breaks it by crunching into his apple. His detachment breaks my heart.

  I whisper hoarsely, “I miss her, okay? She was my only friend and- and I miss her.” I don’t dare look up at him. If I see sympathy in those deep blue eyes of his, I may just attempt to claw them out.

  After a moment of getting my shit together, I shake my head to clear it and another approach comes to mind. Walking around the kitchen counter toward him,
I decide to try something drastic. When I’m only a foot away from him, I jump up onto the counter and sigh deeply. Chewing his apple, he turns his bored expression over to me and I say softly, “You could be nicer to me, ya know?”

  He shrugs and continues eating.

  I want to throw that apple across the room.

  No more playing nice. Time to turn on my wily charm. I bat my lashes at him in a most southern darling way and say a hushed, “I could be nicer to you, too.”

  Have I mentioned that I’ve never flirted before? Ever?

  Nox’s brow furrows and he mutters, “You got somethin’ in your eye or some shit?”

  Jumping off the counter to hide my flush, I stomp out of the kitchen and shout, “Ugh!”

  And I clomp off to the sound of Nox’s deep, sexy chuckle. Half way up the stairs, I remember something.

  Fuck my life!

  I forgot the damn food.

  ***

  You know what I love about Boo? I love that she doesn’t take anything to heart. Thinking about my sister got me down. Really down. And I didn’t really want to spend any more time with Boo because I knew my company would be less than stellar.

  When she asked me what was wrong, I told her I was tired and might just read a little then go to bed. Without a peep, she hugged me, told me it was good to have me home, and left to do her nightly duties.

  So here I am, in bed, pretending to read while totally moping. My brain, preoccupied with thoughts of my family, didn’t even alert me to the fact that Nox was standing at the door watching me in silence.

  When he cleared his throat, I wondered just how long he was standing there watching me watch the wall.

  Looking up at him, I ask, “Everything okay?”

  Nodding, he walks across the room and sits on the edge of the bed. “Yeah.”

  I’m sure there’s nothing but confusion written on my face, but he doesn’t say a thing. Just pulls out the sleek, black cell phone and dials a number. Putting it to his ear, he speaks into the cell, “Ready? Yeah. Thanks.” Then hands me the phone.

  Cautiously taking it from him, I slowly place it to my ear and listen. I hear people chatting, laughter, and music being played softly. A girl comes on the line giggling, she sounds confused. “H- hello?”

  Holy shit! I know that voice!

  “Terah?” I almost shout this.

  “Lily!” She almost blows my eardrum when she squeals excitedly.

  Her enthusiasm is obviously catching, because without thinking I throw myself into Nox’s lap, bouncing.

  Thank you, God!

  Nox expels a strained, noisy breath with every bounce as if I’m suffocating him, but I ignore it and ask my sister in a rush, “How are you? Are you safe? Do you know where you are?”

  Terah chuckles, “Good to the first, yes to the second, and you know better than to ask me the third thing.”

  I sigh, “I know, I know. I just thought-” Cutting myself off, I shake my head and mutter, “Doesn’t even matter anymore, I’m so damn happy to hear your voice! You have no idea!”

  She teases in a baby voice, “Aww! Did you miss me?”

  Without thinking, I tease back in my own baby voice, “Yeah. I miss you lots.” I say lots as wots.

  Nox chuckles at our stupid conversation, but I don’t even care. In my elated state, I pull down my barriers and lean back into him. And I could almost swear that Nox inhales deeply, smelling my hair.

  Right now, I don’t give a shit.

  I’m so happy that if he asked, I’d take off my panties for him to sniff.

  Terah spends the next few minutes filling me in on our time apart.

  The person who took her from our house that day is a guy called Jonathon. And Jonathon is an absolute sweetheart. He and Terah are close. They’re good friends according to my sister. Which, in Terah speak, means she’s head over heels for the guy.

  This should worry me because I don’t know this guy, but right now, I’m just so happy for her that the only advice I give her is to be careful. Terah tells me about Jonathon’s second, Takeshi, and his third, Sean. They’re also good guys. Good guys who are laid back and from what I hear, absolutely nothing like Nox. They let her pick out movies for movie nights, and they let her blast music if she’s in the mood; so basically, she feels like she’s on vacation.

  Knowing Terah, an hour after she was taken, she would’ve made friends with everyone. We’re different like that. My dad’s constant paranoia has rubbed off on me.

  After telling me all about her new home, she asks, “So, how’s your safe house? Are the people nice?” Suddenly serious, she adds, “They’re treating you okay, right?”

  Filling her in on almost every detail, I tell her about being blindfolded and my lashing out, not trusting the people here, and about Nox being a hardass. I tell her about my foiled escape attempt, minus the hair pulling thing, and that the people here are really cool too; it just took me a while to notice. I mention that we had a small scare the other day to which she freaked out a little, but I reassure her I’m fine.

  She asks quietly, “So, do you know why we’re here?”

  Knowing I should tell her, I fight myself for only a second before I lie in perfect calm. “Not a clue.”

  She sighs, “I miss you more than anything, Lil, but I know that dad wouldn’t do this unless there was a good reason.”

  Oh, honey. You don’t know the half of it.

  Agreeing with her, I mutter, “Yeah. I know. I love you, Rahrah.”

  Chuckling, she whispers thickly, “Yeah, babe. Love you, more.”

  Then she’s gone.

  My smile melts into nothing. The void in my chest opens, sucking me into nothingness. Nox wraps an arm around my waist, holding me tight. Grounding me.

  He continues to hold me while I cry through most of the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  Time flies when you’re having fun

  One month later…

  Lily

  Holding the offending product in my hand, I storm down the hall muttering made up cuss words to myself. As soon as he hears me coming, he tries to shut the door on me, but I bolt and make it in the nick of time.

  Nox sighs loudly before asking in that deep husky voice, “What is it, princess?”

  I know he says this in a way that’s meant to be derogatory, but I don’t care. If I tell him how much I like that he calls me that, he’ll stop on principle.

  And I can’t have that. The only thing that stops me from going crazy in this safe house is my daily argument with Nox.

  His hair’s grown out in a way that looks so mouth-watering that I have to mentally remind myself that I mustn’t touch it whenever I’m near him. Because that would be weird, and I would then have to explain that I don’t have a hair fetish and…

  Ugh, never mind.

  Nox isn’t the best looking guy I’ve ever seen, so why does he have this stupid freakin’ hold on me?

  You know why.

  I mentally rip my hair out and shriek to high heaven.

  I do know why, dammit.

  He’s like a fairy-tale hero for Christ’s sakes. I know he’s ordered to protect me and all, but he does such a great job of it. He makes it look effortless. He’s all like ‘C’mon, pack your shit’ and I’m all like ‘No, I like it here’ and he’s all ‘Not safe here, princess’ and I’m all like ‘Sigh. Okay.’

  That’s the basic conversation every freakin’ time.

  All he has to do is princess me and I’m tripping over my own feet. I don’t know how he does it.

  He’s old!

  Okay, twenty-eight is not old, but he acts like a fifty year old!

  Yeah, a fifty year old with ripped abs and arms that could crush a man’s skull, and those strong thighs… bet he’s hung like a hor-

  Do not go there. Just- do not. You’ve been warned, brain.

  Who knew a virgin could be this horny?

  I know. I suck.

  Raising the plastic wrapped package up
past my shoulder, I clear my throat to capture his attention. He looks up at me with those icy-blue eyes and I feel like I’m going to catch a cold. The man doesn’t do happy often.

  As in, never.

  Okay, so that’s an over exaggeration, but I’m pissed right now. And with good reason.

  He looks from me to the package and says stonily, “What now?”

  Throwing the package onto the desk, I tell him, “They aren’t the right ones.”

  He scowls and picks it up to get a better look at it. He reads for a moment then says, “Yes. They are.”

  Unable to mask my look of disbelief, I ask sweetly, “And how would you know?”

  He looks up at me, throws the package towards me and says, “That’s what it says it’s for.”

  I cross my arms across my chest, lean my hip on the desk and retort, “Well, it’s not the right one. I would know. I’m the one who uses them.”

  His shoulders slump and he sighs. Taking another look at me, he scowls again before picking up his handheld two-way radio and presses the button, causing a static noise to sound. Someone at the other end says, “Vito.”

  Nox continues to glare at me while he speaks into the radio. “She says they aren’t the right ones.”

  Vito doesn’t answer for a moment before he responds, “Come again, boss?”

  Nox lowers his head, shaking it and repeats through gritted teeth, “They aren’t the right ones, Vito.”

  Vito utters, “But it said on the pack-”

  Nox cuts him off with, “I know! I know what it said. She says no.”

  Vito sighs, “What the fuck does she need, then?”

  Nox’s eyes widen at me in an expression that shouts well?

  I snatch the radio out of his hands, press the button and almost shout, “Heavy flow! You know? For heavy flow, because I flow heavily during my menstruation cycle, because I’m a girl and that’s what we do.” He doesn’t respond, so pressing the button again, I add, “Bleedin’ for days here, Vito. I need comfort.”